DownFall
by FallenTwilight
Summary: Two darkside apprentices battle it out for their Masters' approval. By immersing themselves fully in darkness can one triumph over the other? And what is the dark side's one reward and only promise? Please RR.


**Downfall**

A petite figure, in a skin tight, free moving jumpsuit, dodged the attack gracefully, her flowing dark hair kept in check by a headband, which was the same shade as the vibrant beam she was gripping fiercely. She was young and pretty, and normally she'd use that to her advantage, but not today, not this opponent.

Her rival fought aggressively, almost arrogantly, his one handed grip seemed almost casual, as if he didn't consider her a worthy foe. She lunged at him, only to be deflected by a careless parry. A black anger exploded in her head, adding strength to her muscles and power to her movements. It was true, this person, this being, was stronger than she was. Physically, at least. She had a greater mental control over the Force than even he could ever dream, however, and she was quick on her feet. She planned to use that to her benefit.

The room was immense, the perfect terrain for this clash of conflict, this battle of wills. A figure, up high on a dais, with the backdrop of stars the only light that they fought by, watched quietly with a fanatical grin that seemed to sap any mirth from the galaxy.

She blocked out the figure, that once-a-man life form that now only was darkness; The presence that seemed to make even the dark cower in fear, and demanded focus from herself. She couldn't lose, the girl knew, or in one moment, she would experience the ultimate humiliation and shame.

And then she would die.

She supposed the same thoughts were running through her enemy's head as well. That grey-eyed, dusty haired, boy she'd grown up with, trained against, maybe even loved, before any such attachments were drilled out of her mind forever, of course. Now, he was only a monster, a bug to squash under her steel-toed boot, a barrier to be knocked down in her path to power.

And knock him over she would.

If only he would just lie down and die.

It would be easier, she thought, but a little unchallenging and if it was one thing on which she thrived on, it was a good challenge. If he merely kneeled before her down-swinging blade it would not be a true test of her might, her abilities. It would not show how far she had progressed in her training.

He was stronger, she was faster, and they were both equally fit. Both had trained vigorously together. She knew his weaknesses; he knew hers. It was just a matter of who would succumb to their faults earliest. Or, who would take the lethal advantage of their opponent's flaws first.

She ducked low when a heavy-handed fist came right at her head, instead of getting back up; she sank to the floor, supported by only her left arm and shot out her leg to trip him. He danced back with a laugh. She flipped backwards and charged him with a relentless assault, her blade pulsating and pushing against the receiving light sword.

His lightsaber was the same color his eyes had been, once, long ago.

Her beating lacked the strength necessary to drive him back, she would have to use some finesse, slip through his defenses. Brute strength alone would not prevail against him.

They spent minutes, hours, days, she didn't know, trading blows. The boy snarled at his trouble in hitting her and lashed out recklessly with his weapon. _Too slow_, she realized when the blade found purchase on her upper left arm, burning through the thin fabric and brushing skin. She pulled back reflexively, crying out, bile rising in her throat as the stench of burnt flesh battered her senses.

Jaw clenched against the pain, she called on the Force, not to shunt away the pain but to center her will on the emotions that the wound caused: her anger at being sluggish, at her opponent for gaining a measure of satisfaction from her pain. She felt the call of revenge keenly and let her anger amplify her hold on the Force.

He _would_ pay.

Quietly unscrewing one of the durasteel beams that held the room together, she lowered it to the same height of his head and with a powerful tug, wrenched it toward the boy's head. Almost too late, the young man realized his peril. He dodged to the right and a blow that was meant to knock him unconscious hit him on the side of his jaw, spurting blood and crushing bone. A glancing blow, but effective all the same.

Now it was her turn to laugh but she didn't waste time letting him get his bearings back. She deftly twirled her blood-red blade and slashed at his heart; he moved at the last moment and, instead of killing him, the lightsaber blazed a furrow in his shoulder.

Now they were both wounded, and furious, they increased the intensity of their attacks. The only noise she could hear was her thrumming heartbeat. She couldn't seem to catch her breath. Even their shouts and screams were lost in the fury of combat, deafening compared to the echoes of their intricate footwork and the hum of their weapons vibrating against each other.

The young Jedi didn't realize it, as she jumped above different obstructions and hurdled under objects that flew at her head, that she was gradually being directed towards the far wall. So intent was she in the act of just _defending_, she forgot that her goal here was to win. Her aim, just then, was merely to _survive._ She was having a harder time than she thought in trying to accomplish that, too. It hadn't been a coincidence that their Master's had pitted them against each other. They were utterly evenly matched.

She could sense, one way or another, that this was the end. The two lightsabers crossed together and, brown eyes ablaze with the idea of a lingering fiery vengeance she raised an eyebrow.

_Ready?_

_Only if you are, _was his grim response.

Faster than her eye could follow he lunged at her. _Easy_, she thought, and sprung backward.

Only, to be stopped by, of anything, a wall. A searing pain lanced through her abdomen and she dropped to her knees. She wasn't even aware of her extinguished lightsaber clattering to the ground. Her whole life was staring at the throbbing blue energy blade that had pierced her through. After moments that seemed like eternity, he turned off his own weapon and she slipped to the ground.

She didn't think her wound was mortal. If she could get to a bacta tank now, she had a chance of surviving. _Like that is going to happen_. _I'm not going to live long enough to get out of this room._

She was dead and she knew it.

But she wasn't going to die alone. She had one last card to play. She knew her opponent probably better than she knew herself. Knew his strengths. More importantly, she knew his one, hopefully fatal weakness.

_Me._

She was his weakness. In the fury of combat, he had inflicted a lot of pain on her. But he hadn't really been aware. He had been blinded by his anger, by his own darkness, by his own need to win. Now, that the fight was over and won, she saw his once blue eyes cloud. She had always felt that one light spot in his heart amid all the shadows that had held him back all these years. He hadn't been able to hide that from her.

"_Leia_," he murmured.

She heard a high-pitched cackling, but she couldn't place it. It was beyond her range of sight and her vision was beginning to dim. She guessed it didn't matter anymore.

"_Yes_," the voice hissed, _"finish her Skywalker. Take you're place at you're father's side as my servant."_

Luke, that was his name, seemed uncertain. After all they just went through, he faltered.

_"Luke,"_ she found the energy to urge, "_Do it."_ She found the energy to smile. _"This is what we trained for, remember?"_

A heavy breathing machine sauntered out from beside the Emperor. Her eyes were beginning to cloud, but she could recognize the sound of his mechanical breathing anywhere.

"_Son_," he addressed Luke, ", _End this now. Prove that you are the stronger twin."_

"_Twins_?" Luke said incredulously, "_we're both_ you're _children_?"

As Luke spoke with Vader, Leia wouldn't allow herself to think that Luke was her brother, that Vader was her Father. She needed to summon her remaining energy for this one last act.

Letting her eyes fall shut, she searched through the Force and precariously picked up her lightsaber where it lay behind her brother, no, not her brother, her _enemy_.

She opened her eyes and met Luke's cool gray ones. She grinned, a manic, insane grin instilled with nothing but pure darkside. With a mental tug, she mimicked her earlier action with the durasteel beam.

Luke didn't even have time to react, his mouth forming a small _O_ of surprise, before the scarlet lightsaber penetrated his heart. He didn't even have time to recognize that his own sister had betrayed him when he had shown her an instant's mercy. The light spot within him had been his downfall. Luke Skywalker had fallen.

She shakily stood, clutching her stomach, and faced the Emperor and his henchman, her Father. She had given herself completely to the dark side and she eagerly awaited her reward.

_Victory is mine!_

She then dropped to the ground, lifeless, the fiery triumphant radiance in her eyes, extinguished.

Vader turned to his Master, and for a momentall that was heard was his labored breathing.

The Emperor looked amused. "_Fools_" He mocked, "_Lord Vader, clean up this mess_."

Darth Vader's mouth gaped open in shock behind his mask; the one spark of light that _he_ had always struggled to remove disappeared in wake of his twin' children's death. He stared stonily at the bodies.

_What a waste._

He turned around, waving over one of the scarlet clad Imperial guards over to where the two bodies lay.

_"Dispose of the bodies."_

As always he went to carry out his Master's bidding.


End file.
